The Concoction Of All Evil
by mystfatale
Summary: So, this was a story that I wrote when I was 14. I have no idea. Proof of my strange, perpetual obsession for Hogwarts professors. Enjoy.


The Concoction Of All Evil

By Weezie

THE ACTUAL STORY

Now, Professor Minerva McGonagall was obviously not one for being overly kind to students. On the contrary, she transformed into the teacher from hell when she found one of the Hufflepuff girls with a _Witch Weekly _magazine in her Transfiguration class, with a handsome looking young wizard on the front cover. He was called Alan Rickman. And he was a Wizard porn star. Yes, Alan Rickman is a wizard porn star… I think he's Severus Snape's long lost (slightly more famous, attractive, richer, successful, extremely jealousy-inducing) brother, or something. Don't ask me why they have different names; perhaps Alan just made his up.

"Miss Easting! Well I'd never! You're the last person I would expect going behind my back!" McGonagall huffed, grabbing the magazine out of the girl's hands. "I am very disappointed in you! Ten point from Hufflepuff! You will never do this again, do you hear? Which is a pity because that Alan Rickman is just so damn fine."

Easting nodded solemnly, tears staining her eyes. She began sobbing.

McGonagall clapped angrily up to her desk and slipped the magazine in her drawer; with shifty eyes, she opened the drawer again and smirked inconspicuously at the front cover. _I won't have to take the female Viagra potion anymore, that's for sure! _Female Viagra? Females get erections nowadays? Er… sure they do. The class settled and returned to work as usual.

When the bell rang for lunch, Miss Easting was the last one out of the Transfiguration classroom.

"Er – Professor?"

"What, Miss Easting?"

"May I – may I have my mag-?"

McGonagall smacked her hand down on the desk, which made the girl jump. The sound silenced her almost immediately.

"Did you not hear what I said before, Miss Easting? Did I not specifically state that you were NEVER to see this… _Witch Weekly _again? I stated that, did I not?"

"Ummm, yes. But PLEASE! I promise-!"

"That you will never do it again?" McGonagall smirked. "Yes, I have heard that excuse before… as have all of the teachers. Now get along to lunch, Miss Easting, you are wasting your time… and indeed my masturba – I mean… my _time. _Good afternoon."

McGonagall stayed in her classroom for a while marking the Hufflepuff and Slytherin students essays on 'When Transfiguring Humans… GOES WRONG!'. When she had finished marking the last (on which she gave an abysmal 'D'… 'D' for DUH! HOW COULD YOU NOT UNDERSTAND THIS, STUPID!), she packed up the equipment and headed off to lunch.

The Transfiguration professor made her way through the Great Hall and to the teacher's high table. When sitting down rather violently in-between Professors Snape and Dumbledore, the latter turned to her and frowned.

"Minerva?" Dumbledore asked. "You seem a little more… _livid _than usual?"

McGonagall turned a head to him violently.

"Oh, I am not, Albus! Don't make up such gibberish! It's just… some students, oh, I don't know. Breaking rules, etcetera, etcetera."

Dumbledore chuckle and took a bite of his pie. "You have been working here for years, Minerva, I'd have expected that you would have grown accustomed to this?"

McGonagall scoffed. "Yes of course, Albus, but some – I think they are all being influenced. Even the good ones are starting to ride off the rails!"

"The _good _ones?" Dumbledore said, one eyebrow raised.

"Now who's being prejudice to the students?" Severus Snape said, with a tone of irony in his voice. When McGonagall shot the Potions Master a look of pure venom, he went back to talking to his lunch. Or eating his lunch. Heck, let's just say he did both.

"I'm not saying that they don't have potential!" she continued telling Dumbledore. "But they're not going to succeed with this… lack of commitment!"

"Please, Minerva. Our students are achieving their best marks ever!" Dumbledore argued "now why don't you have some strong black coffee? Caffeine will surely calm you down! Hagrid, pass the teapot would you?"

* * *

A couple of Gryffindors sat at the back of the classroom, sniggering overly loud at a big red book as they all crowded around for a look.

"Here! Here! Look at this!" one of the seventh-year boys chuckled, pointing at a picture to another. "Try that one with your girlfriend!"

"Aw common mate, she'll expect something in return for that!"

The group of boys all laughed loudly as the classroom door swung open and banged against the wall. Professor Snape stormed in; the boys quickly hid the book underneath the table.

"Settle down… _settle down… _SETTLE DOWN!" Snape shrieked. The class was instantly silenced at this last final call to order. "_Twits…_" Snape mumbled underneath his breath.

"Now, today," he continued in his cool silky voice, "we will ATTEMPT to make a more complicated concoction of the Draught of Peace. Notice my word: attempt. I doubt any of you will perform even an _adequate _potion today. Apart from a couple of academics who may just be competent enough…" he cast a look at the Slytherins, who all sat up proudly.

He turned to the chalkboard and started to write down the very complicated ingredients. The Gryffindor boys saw this as another opportunity to glance at the book and they started sniggering once more. The Slytherin boys, however, saw this as an opportunity to flick newt eyes at the Gryffindors, they also started sniggering. The Gryffindor girls saw this as an opportunity to perve on all of the boys. And the Slytherin girls saw this as an opportunity to perve on everyone… cauldrons included.

Snape snapped around from the front of the class. The Slytherins immediately silenced and carried on with their work. The Gryffindors, however, paid no attention to Snape's lethal stares and continued pointing and gasping in awe at the book.

"So!" Snape said in a deadly whisper, but this was heard by everyone. He walked ever-so-slowly to where the Gryffindors all sat, bunched up. "What are we reading here, boys?" Magazines?" he picked up the red book, closed, from one of the silent boys hands. "Well, I must say I am impressed, Mr. Connell…" (the Slytherins all looked extremely disappointed) "… not a magazine at all, but an actual _book? _I never knew you had the stamina. Twenty points from Gryffindor, a detention tomorrow night, and _this –" _he shook the red book in his hand, " – will be confiscated indefinitely. Get on with your potions, nit-wits!"

The Gryffindors all looked extremely nervous when Snape walked back up to his desk. He lay the book down on the table as they boys prayed he wouldn't open it. Thankfully he didn't… yet.

The end of class drew nearer and nearer. The Gryffindors were on pins to leave the dungeon, while the Slytherins sat comfortably next to their cauldrons pouring the mixtures into their bottles. When all of the work was collected, Snape took his wand out from his pocket and waved it at the bottles. They flew to the other side of the classroom.

"Right, there are very few minutes to go. As far as I can see, _most _of you have managed to scrape an 'A' with the exception of Connell and a few others… I shudder to think what would happen to me if I suddenly became so delirious that I could not maintain even a shred of coherent thought and decided to drink _those _containers of bat droppings. Miss Swan, you may stop staring lustfully at your cauldron – I can assure you that your feelings will not be returned." Snape reached out to the edge of his desk. He took the paper object in both hands and drew it back to him. Then… he did what all the Gryffindors had dreaded, and all the Slytherins had hoped. He opened the confiscated red book.

The class hushed in deadly silence… a silence which one could cut with a knife… they waited for the explosion.

But Snape didn't explode. No. He simply gave one of his famous sneers and looked up at the boys. "You are the stay after class and explain yourselves. The rest of you are dismissed… go."

"Well, well, well, what have we here?" Snape asked the group of boys as they trudged slowly up to his desk. "Pornography? This is absolute filth. Completely vile. Especially since it is full of naked pictures of that _damned _Alan Rickman. I shall be taking fifty points from your house. Each."

The boys looked as if they were about to protest but decided against it. Professor Snape sighed.

"I don't know what I have to do to get through to your completely hollow heads. ALL of you will have a month of detention, and I shall be contacting the Headmaster about this… I daresay that he shall be writing to your families at once. As for this…" he hung the book between two of his fingers so that the pages parted to reveal a very scantily-clad Alan Rickman lying on a beach naked and looking at the camera as if he'd 'been a very bad boy', "… it shall be burned momentarily, I assure you. NOW GET OUT, YOU PERVERTED ADOLESCENTS!"

The boys needed no second warning.

* * *

"Urgh, I'd like to know which house-elf cleans this storage room… really!" Snape spat as he stumbled over object upon object in the storage cupboard.

(_***Author's note: in case this account of very real events is read in a time that S.P.E.W. has been made official, I would like to assure the house-elf protectionists that Severus Snape's comment is entirely fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or deceased is entirely – what? Well, what I mean is, don't kill the author or Severus for the previous line. We lived in a time of injustice and intolerance.)_

"Severus?"

"Madam Hooch?"

Snape had fallen backward into a shelf and had bumped into Madam Hooch. Both issued a short scream. Severus momentarily covered his mouth after discovering that he screamed like a woman.

"What are you doing here?" Hooch snapped at the younger teacher.

Severus frowned offensively. "What do you think? Do you think we could have some light in here? I can't see where you are… _Lumos." _

A light flickered from his wand. Hooch was by one of the shelves. Snape noticed that she was fondling pile of leaves in her arms.

"So what have you got this time, Severus? Remembrall? Liquorice wand? Box of assorted flavoured condoms? Pregnancy tests after we discovered that the condoms had holes in them?"

"Worse…" he thrust the red book at her, "pornography. Honestly, one has to wonder where they get it from, Hooch. It's almost like an of age witch or wizard is selling them on the Hogwarts black market."

Hooch coughed and began choking. "I er… I have no idea! Absolutely no idea how they get it! Anyway, you're burning it for sure? You must burn it instead of burning my _beautiful, sweet, intoxicating leaves… mmm" _she continued heavily petting her leaves. Snape stared at her with a raised eyebrow. "Or are you keeping it?" she asked with a seductive wink.

Snape shot her a look of complete depravity. "Oh please, Hooch, that is not even remotely humorous. Yes, of course it is getting burned."

"You could always give it to me."

Snape shuddered and looked around as if he was frightened that people would hear. "Sh! Be quiet, Hooch!"

Hooch smirked. "Oh it's a _joke, Severus. _Honestly, would it hurt you to smile once in a while?" she even dared to pinch his cheek.

Snape pulled back violently and snorted (mmm… snorted). "Believe me, I would have smirked _if _you had not completely sickened me with your depraved fantasies –" (he shuddered again) " – anyway, I think I'd best be off. Detentions don't just make themselves, you know. Wait…"

He glanced at a bottle of hot pink liquid on the middle shelf. Hooch stepped forward. "What?"

"This… what is it? This bottle?" Snape asked, mainly to himself. He then turned the container so that it revealed a white label.

"A leaf?"

"Are leaves all you ever _think _about?"

"No. I like branches. Branches are pretty."

"Oh, shut-up Hooch."

Both professor and flying instructor squinted and read the label out together: "The Concoction Of All Evil…" they stared at each other in amazement.

"The Concoction of _All Evil_?" Snape repeated, almost showing a slight smile. "It kind of looks like some kind of shampoo, doesn't it?"

Hooch could not help herself. "You know what shampoo is, Severus?"

Snape looked slightly hurt, but hid this by rolling his eyes. "I wash my hair!" he objected "it's… it's… oh, _shut-up!"_

Madam Hooch laughed and shook her head.

"Sorry. Look, shouldn't you be off terrorizing first years or something?"

The Potions Master looked quickly to the door, "yes… yes you're right… see you later then."

He swept out from the room in a split second, with one swish of his cape.

* * *

It was freezing cold the next morning at six. Snape slowly opened his eyes and closed them again almost immediately as his eyelids felt too heavy to hold up… he was not a morning person to say the least. At six forty-five he awoke once more. This time, Snape managed to keep his eyes open long enough to glance over his pillows towards the arched window in his chamber; frost coated the entire pane which made him even more reluctant to get out of bed… it had to be done… it had to be done… oh but it was so warm and fuzzy in here! Warm and fuzzy? If only the students could hear his real thoughts, eh?

He thanked his lucky stars that he had superb willpower.

"Good morning, sleepy heads!" Professor Flitwick squeaked cheerfully as Professors Snape and McGonagall entered the staffroom at the same time. Snape vaguely considered a few Unforgiveable Curses. "What are you up to today, Minerva?"

"Wondering what diabolical plans the students are going to come up with today," she said, sounding quite infuriated now. Flitwick caught a glimpse of a _Witch Weekly _magazine sticking out of her robe pocket. She took a seat next to Dumbledore who offered her a cup of tea with a lemon floating in it.

"And how we today, Severus?" Dumbledore asked the Potions Master, who poured himself a cup of black coffee and sat moodily on a couch.

"Mmm," Snape mumbled in reply and sipped from his coffee.

"Good, good. You will be pleased to hear that I have written to the Gryffindors boys parents."

"Mmm. I should have hoped so."

"What's this?" Professor Aurora Sinistra, the Astronomy Mistress, asked over the top of her novel.

"Some boys have been found with a rather graphic book –"

"_Gryffindor _boys" Snape interrupted, shooting a sneer at McGonagall who looked as if she was about to launch herself at him violently.

All of a sudden, Madam Hooch burst through the door with a reddened face and breath as raspy as if she had been running a three hour marathon. Dumbledore and McGonagall rose from their chairs, Snape only looked mildly interested. Actually, he didn't look interested at all. He only continued to mentally undress Sinistra.

"Con – con – the – sham – " she heaved, bending over and almost hyperventilating. Hooch took one mighty breath and began once more. "Someone stole the concoction!"

"What concoction?" McGonagall asked. Snape's attentions suddenly snapped away from the now completely naked Astronomy Mistress.

"What happened to my Sham?!" asked Sinistra.

"The Concoction Of All Evil!" Hooch shrieked.

"Yes, but what about my _Sham_?" Sinistra asked again, looking terribly concerned. Hooch tutted loudly.

"Not _Sham _you silly and incredibly freaky woman!"

Sinistra felt a weight lift from her shoulders. "Oh, that's alright then… just as long as my Sham hasn't gone missing. I'm using it on a French man who's coming to tea tonight."

The teachers frowned at each other, looking incredibly confused (apart from Severus… who wore an expression that looked suspiciously like jealousy). Dumbledore caught their attention once more.

"Come with me," he said to Madam Hooch. They made their way to the door and left, leaving the rest of the teachers looking puzzled and concerned.

"What are they _talking _about?" Professor Sinistra snapped, placing her book down (an exceptionally small novel entitled: '_Horny Magic Whipped Cream And Why It Might Save Your Life Someday: It'll Save Your Life Because The Wizard You Use It On Will Forever Be Under Your Command. Oops, I Just Gave Away The Whole Point Of This Book. Oh Well, By It Anyway… Please? Ok Fine, I'll Change The Title. It Is Now Called - The Book With A Title That's Cool And In No Way Related To Magical Whipped Cream') _and she looked around for answers. McGonagall shook her head, but Snape cleared his throat for everyone's attention.

"It was some sort of bottle that was in the confiscation cupboard on the second floor… it was bright pink if I recall. Hooch and I found it only yesterday."

Suddenly, Professor Flitwick yelped and jumped off his chair.

"PINK!" he yelled, "oh my!"

"Can someone please tell me what is going on?!" Sinistra said loudly.

"I just told you! Have you not been listening to a word I've said?" Snape spat, "or did I wake up invisible today?"

"I wish you did wake up invisible. And mute."

"I wish you woke up as a _turnip_!"

"What?"

"Shut-up!"

"What?"

"STOP IT!"

"Cease the dramatics, both of you! If only you were students still, I would take a million billion points from Slytherin this instant!" McGonagall told them both off sternly as Sinistra poked her tongue out at Snape behind her back. "Come boy, we have to aid the Headmaster in his quest."

She clicked her fingers and made her way out of the room, with Snape following at her heels, rolling his eyes and saying: "_boy… _you will never get over the fact that I am your professional equal now, can you? And incidentally _taller _than you by the way."

"So what exactly is the 'Concoction Of All Evil'?" McGonagall asked Flitwick as the four teachers rushed down to the school grounds, following Dumbledore and Hooch's path.

Professor Flitwick, considerably smaller than the other three, was panting and wheezing as he replied.

"It's a bewitching substance, Minerva. The person who lathers its contents onto their skin or hair is entranced with a certain… spell… a curse, if you will. I confiscated the bottle years ago when Severus was at school, in fact!"

"Don't ever speak about my adolescence, Filius" Snape silenced him with one raised hand as they finally managed to catch up with the Headmaster. He was heading into Hagrid's hut.

"What on earth is… is that _Hagrid_?" Sinistra started when the sound of high-pitched singing reached their ears.

Dumbledore turned to his staff at the door.

"Methinks Hagrid was a smidge inebriated last night," he told them.

"But surely he wouldn't still be utterly legless this morning!" McGonagall argued. "He would have had to be drinking through the entire night!"

"Minerva, do you remember last night… when you and I made our way from the Great Hall after indulging on a couple of warm steaming mugs of hot chocolate with the little marshmallows on top, and we heard a noise from the floor below?"

"Yes. But Albus, I thought we had established what that was."

"No, Minerva. It was not Severus."

"Me?! What have _I _got to do with anything?" Snape yelled. He was shushed by the teachers.

McGonagall and Dumbledore exchanged hesitant glances.

"Er… well…" McGonagall said, uncomfortably. "You know, Severus… you're young, and, well, _alone_."

Snape looked away slowly and said, "Yes I am aware. Thank you for the reminder."

"No, what I mean is - "

"Are you suggesting that I take care of my needs _that loudly_? I do it very privately and very quietly in the depths of my chambers, thank you very much. I don't go gallivanting about the castle servicing myself!" Snape snapped, frowning. Then he realised what surreptitious information he just had just revealed to everyone. The teachers were all staring at him with alarm, and, to Snape's complete mortification, Hooch was smiling and giving him the thumbs up and he turned to see Sinistra's lip slowly rising into the parody of a mischievous smirk. _Damn those younger witches and their insinuations!_

"Er…" Snape looked more than a bit flushed now. "Not that I do take care of my needs! I mean, not that I _have _any needs whatsoever! I mean- I mean- _shut-up, Rolanda!"_

Madam Hooch, who had decided to suddenly begin a chant of the words: "WHOO HOO SEVERUS, WHACK THAT BLUDGER!" was immediately silenced. She coughed and casually leant a tree with one arm.

"We meant that we thought you were drunk, Severus." Dumbledore explained matter-of-factly.

"… yes? Yes! Well, that's exactly what I meant. Which I _wasn't!_" Snape said, happy that he could change the subject._ " '_I don't go gallivanting about the castle serving myself drinks', is what I meant to say!"

"So what you're saying, Headmaster" McGonagall continued without a beat (Flitwick was now staring at Snape lustfully, causing him to eye him suspiciously and slowly side-step away from him), "is that Hagrid stumbled into that cupboard and mistook the C.O.A.E. for a bottle of Firewhiskey?"

"Exactly. And don't use acronyms in such a haphazard manner, Minerva. I find it quite pathetic."

"Sorry."

"But Albus," Sinistra said "wouldn't he have to have put the thing on his head before it took effect?"

"I guess he managed to do it, Aurora. Come on, we'll have to counteract the curse and bring him back to us."

He slowly opened the door… they all gasped.

Hagrid was dancing around wildly in his hut, whirling his hips around. The teachers almost gagged at the sight of him. He was wearing a fluffy pink tutu, and for some reason had placed an upside-down vase on his head; the flowers underneath were squashed and disfigured. He held in each separate hand a tambourine and a soup bowl, and was clashing the two objects together over and over while skipping around the place, jumping over various furniture and singing: "I'M A MANIAC! A MANIAAAAAC! THAT'S FOR SURE! AND I'M DANCING LIKE I'VE NEVER DANCED BEFORE!"

With that lyric out of the way, the group of teachers came to from their cringe-like state and simultaneously pointed their wands at Hagrid and shouted "_Silencio!_"

But the charm did nothing. The substance the teachers believed to be water seeping from underneath the vase suddenly turned a hideous yellow colour. Flitwick gasped.

"It's the Concoction Of All Evil! It's in the vase! It's bewitched Hagrid! It's got – hello? HELLO?" he began tugging at the teachers' robes. Not one of them was paying the slightest amount of attention towards the miniscule Professor. He started jumping up and down screaming at the top of his lungs, only to be swiftly silenced by Sinistra kicking out backwards at him with her leather boot, complete with six-inch heel… she was a dominatrix, after all; anything less than six inches would be an insult to her kind.

Hagrid suddenly snapped from brutally bashing up the tambourines and soup bowls. He turned to Dumbledore and grabbed his hands; he began quickly swinging around the hut with Dumbledore in his arms singing: "YO HO, YO HO, A WIZARD'S LIFE FOR MEEE! WE CURSE, WE BREW, WE WAND-WAVE AND DUEL DRINK UP ME WARLOCKS YO HO!"

"Pfft. Not even the correct lyrics." Snape snarled underneath his breath.

"And I suppose Hagrid dancing around dressed in a pink tutu is PERFECTLY normal compared to wrong lyrics?" Sinistra argued, a deep frown crossing her forehead. Snape shot her an abhorrent look.

"Anything pink would shock you, you whip-wielding bondage Queen."

"Don't pretend you don't love it _Professor Spank."_

"I thought we agreed that we'd keep my slave name secret, you blabbermouth harlot!"

"SILENCE, SLAVE!"

"Yes, Mistress." Snape bowed in submission, "What? I mean, _how dare you speak to me in that manner_! I shall be submitting a formal complaint about your professional conduct to the Deputy Headmistress immediately!" – he pointed at her to McGonagall and shook his head in sheer disbelief.

"Official complaint noted." McGonagall decided to humor him. The three teachers let their eyes travel back to what Hagrid was doing, and McGonagall made a break for him. She attempted to wrench Dumbledore from the Gamekeeper, whose hair had now begun to turn blue. All of a sudden, Hagrid pushed Dumbledore right into Professor McGonagall – knocking her head over heels (literally) and sending Dumbledore heels over head. That head landed next to McGonagall's heels, and her head was positioned just under Snape's heels, whose heels were right next to Sinistra's heels (because obviously they had just been standing next to each other arguing). The only one whose heels and head were not anywhere near the vicinity of the huts was Hooch's, whose head _and _heels were in a bush somewhere. Hooch had a slightly odd obsession with peering into plants and staring excitedly at the leaves. The teachers worried about her sanity often.

The teachers (minus the preoccupied leaf obsessed Hooch who would really make more sense if she was Professor Sprout now that I think about it) all gaped at Hagrid, wondering wildly what on earth he was going to sing next. He slowly and dramatically turned his head into the light with a very melodramatic expression plastered onto his face, breathed in a great slow gasp of air… and suddenly FLUNG his arms around and belted:

"WHEN YOU CRIED I WIPED AWAY ALL OF YOUR TEARS, WHEN YOU SCREAM I'LL FIGHT AWAY ALL YOUR FEARS! AND I HELD YOUR HANDS FOR ALL OF THESE YEEEEARS! AND YOU STILL HAAAAVE AAAALL OF MEEEE…" Hagrid then brought his arms close to him, as if he were hugging himself. "_Near…. Far… wherever you are… I believe that the heart does go ooooooo-ooooo-n…"_

Then he started sobbing loudly. Dumbledore handed him a handkerchief and patted him on the back. By this stage, both Flitwick and Hooch were now absent from the hut, as Flitwick figured that he wouldn't be written about anyway because there were too many characters in this scene. So he disappeared back to his office… where he was never written about again.

Hagrid continued dancing like this well into the rest of evening. The teachers attempted spell after spell to silence him, but to no avail. Snape came running back and forth to and from the castle with potion after potion, but alas it did not work. Dumbledore tried to perform a counseling session, but for once in his life – Hagrid would not listen him. Sinistra brought out one of her most treasured objects, the cat of nine tails; in attempt to whip Hagrid back into his senses, but alas. McGonagall attempted to transfigure him into a mime (well, at least he'd be quiet), but he continued to scream and wail. And Hooch… was staring at leaves.

ALL OF A SUDDEN! Harry Potter bursts through the door, his arms wide apart and one mighty grin on his face. The door hit the wall with supreme violence, the teachers all jumped.

"EHHHH!" Harry bellowed, grinning like there was no tomorrow. Harry always did things like there was no tomorrow, because, for him, it was always quite a real possibility. "HAGRID, MA MAN!"

The teachers all blinked at him for several seconds before Harry's dropped. Hagrid continued dancing and singing. He was currently singing 'Gangster's Paradise'… Harry's face suddenly lit up.

"I can solve this! As I always solve everything! Be right back, ma homies!" he murmured loudly before turning and strutting out of the door and across the grounds, one arm moving back and forth over his abdomen (ghetto style).

"Well that was beneficial," Snape muttered sarcastically. "Oh Headmaster, there is nothing else we can do. We'll just have to let it wear off."

"Look, why don't you, Aurora and Rolanda go back up to the castle and have some dinner?" McGonagall suggested. "While you're at it, you could try to stop Potter from coming back. Merlin knows his heroic urge to save the day whilst ignoring the experience and far greater expertise of every single adult around him is bubbling up inside him again. Albus and I will try to sustain Hagrid just until the curse wears off."

"I can sustain him," Sinistra objected, flexing her fingers. "Just give me five minutes."

"I don't think you appear to realise what the term 'sustain' means, Aurora" Snape quipped underneath his breath. He whooshed his cloak and around and made to exit through the door (he exits through the door? Gosh, who saw that coming?).

"Oh right. I was getting it confused with org-"

"Yes we all know what you were getting it confused with," McGonagall immediately silenced her, rolling her eyes as she did so. "Now GO!" she flung her hand up in a dramatic gesture and started reciting really cheesy/famous one liners: "You want the truth! You can't handle the truth! Dave, this conversation can serve no purpose anymore: goodbye. You can be my wingman anytime. I AIN'T GETTIN' ON NO PLANE!"

Snape and Sinistra exchanged concerned glances and quickly backed out of the hut.

On their way back to the castle (Sinistra was forced to pull Hooch along with them using one of her spiked dog collars and leash), the three teachers caught sight of The Golden Trio: Harry, Hermione and Ron, making their way down the Hogwarts grounds. Harry had, for some bizarre reason, transformed himself into a ghetto rapper, complete with shiny gold beanie, bling bling and his glasses (still in their 'Harry Potterness' style) were now a shade of vivid orange. Hermione was hurrying along next to him grudgingly wearing a black t-shirt with big yellow letters saying: MA BIATCH, and Ron was wearing another black t-shirt with big yellow letters saying: MA MAN BIATCH. The two Slytherin professors' jaws dropped open.

"Oh Harry, you know how much I love visiting Hagrid. Especially when he's in trouble so I can be the only one who could break him out of it and then feel all superior and great – but did you have to dress us in such attire?" Hermione was saying… they had not caught sight of the teachers yet.

"Yah Hermz, I gotsta have ma homies lookin' like ma homies if we all gonna pop Haggaz out this curse ya dig?" Harry said in exaggerated ghetto slang.

"What does mine actually _mean_?" asked Ron, stretching out the t-shirt in his hands and trying to read it upside down.

"It means you're his cute little ginger gimp," Sinistra called into the darkness. Rob almost fell over himself.

"AHHH! NIGHT VOICES! THEY'RE TALKING AGAIN! AHHH!" Ron run past Professor Sinistra, who turned around just in time to watch him, arms flailing, into the lake with a big splash. Silence.

"Such a dumb child." Snape sighed.

"Er…" Hermione mumbled, staring at the lake with deep concern, "don't worry about him Professors –"

"I'M NOT A PROFESSOR!" Madam Hooch shrieked, her attention finally switching from leaves to the Gryffindor girls face. "I'M TOO DUMB!"

"Uh, well, yes. Anyway…" Hermione continued. "Harry's just told me about Hagrid! What's happened exactly?"

"That is none of your concern, Miss Granger" Snape said silkily. "But we have, in fact, been sent to the castle to ensure that the three of you – or _two_ of you now – do not go gallivanting about with your arrogant Gryffindor heads so big-"

"Oh, come on Sev, shut-up and come on. The Frenchman is probably at my door already," Sinistra said in a bored manner. Snape cleared his throat.

"Well you two are not allowed to go and see Hagrid," he said matter-of-factly. "I suggest that you take your baggy-trousered **insert rude word that Snape would never say and is incredibly out of character… unlike the rest of the dialogue in this fic, of course**'s back to the Gryffindor common room."  
"Will YOU come with me?" Harry said with a seductive wink, apparently forgetting his Ali G mannerisms and turning himself into the main character of a Snarry story instead. Snape closed his eyes as if he were going to be sick, but then he said something which made everyone gasp in horror.

"Fine, Potter, fine. I'll come with you – lead the way."

Leaving Sinistra to trail Hooch off to the Quidditch pitch (because Hooch obviously lives in a tent in one of the Quidditch rings), Snape, Hermione and Harry trenched up to the Gryffindor common room. The entire way up Harry was shaking with lust and singing to himself: "I'm finally getting laid! I'm finally getting laid! Laid by Snape! Laid by Snape! WHOO WHOO" he made a train sound and ran around in circles. As soon as Hermione and Harry climbed through the portrait of the Fat Lady, Snape lingered by the door. Harry reached out to him.

"Coming, Professor?" he said with a massive… wink. Snape made to take Harry's hand, and then with ultra-speed he pulled back, slammed the door shut on the pair and summoned an iron bar, which he bolted to the front of the portrait hole.

"SUCKERS!" he yelled as he sped down the stairs, leaving the entire house of Gryffindor trapped for the entire night. Slytherin: 1.

_As she heard Snape's hurried footsteps race down the staircase, Hermione sighed and leant against the doorframe. Why couldn't this story be like real fan fiction and have her as a stock standard, smoking hot, barely legal eighteen year old who had Severus hanging on her every word? Why must this story tell the real truth that Hermione was still more or less a child that Snape would not go near with a twenty-foot barge pole? She silently hated Louise, the author, who, for Hermione's insolence and knowledge of the omnipotent narrator, killed her off._

* * *

**And yes, there was where I decided to end it. Why not? Thank you for reading!**_  
_


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